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Fixed Gear Century
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- Published on Wednesday, 27 July 2011 23:18
- Written by melne
The day's weather was less than ideal-looking, with thick cloud cover and a steady bluster from the west, but as it often happens, visual "lousy weather" turned out to be actually pretty good ride weather.
We warmed up quick as we hammered down Doolittle toward Fairmont. I hadn't taken the fixed gear up any of the planned climbs, so I had my usual trepidation of climbing them in my one-and-only gear. Much to my surprise, I found Fairmont to register about "medium" on the fixed, which is about half the climb an out-of-the-saddle effort.
We regrouped at the top, and I expressed some concern about the descent, as I'm not fully comfortable with descending fixed yet. My trepidation was warranted, because about 3/4 down the backside of Fairmont, due to a combination of too-loose chain tension, the chatter of the road and (likely) my bouncing butt at 130-140 rpm cadence, the chain fell off the sprocket, wrapped around the bottom bracket and locked up my rear wheel. This is the fixed-gear kiss of death. The rear wheel then locked up, and through some sort of miracle I maintained control of the bike as the rear wheel began to skid.
I have never practiced skidding on the fixed-gear like the "fixie kids" do. I had been feathering the brakes to scrub speed, as I usually do on a descent. Somehow, with the rear skidding one way, then another, I managed to brake it to a halt and stay upright. I don't know how, but I thank my lucky stars and all the higher powers I can remember that I was not splayed upon the pavement at this point.
A rider who was behind me on the descent, said he saw my tire smoke as it skidded. He was certain I was going to run into the back of a parked car on the side of the road. Once I got it stopped, I dismounted and then began to shake and breathe heavy. Hello Adrenaline! Disaster avoided. This time. Lesson learned (almost the very, very hard way) about chain tension. :-/
Eventually the three off the front returned to help me retension the chain and inspect the wheel for damage. The back wheel is now slightly out of true, and there's a big flat spot on tire where I was skidding. The paint on the chainstay and bottom bracket is pretty (not pretty, really) messed up, but other than shaken up, everything else was OK.
At that point, one rider suggested we flop my wheel to the freewheel side. I considered it, maybe it would be a good idea, but I *really* wanted to do a century fixed, so that idea was nixed.
I was VERY surprised that I rolled up the entire Dublin Grade seated. I've struggled up that hill on my road bike in the smallest gear before. Perhaps it was the strong tailwind at our backs, or maybe the fixed-gear has just made me stronger, but it was climbed with ease.
We had a scenic tour of Foothill and some of the neighborhoods visited on the Cinderella course before we took our first rest stop at Starbucks on Vineyard road. It was too cold to stop too long, so we were soon headed to Livermore. It was quite nice to have the invisible hand of tailwinds the whole way out there--but you know what *that* means...We would eventually have to turn back toward the West and face the brutal Wind Plains of Livermore--and yes, the beatings *were* brutal. We worked together (OK, yes, when I say "we worked together" I mean the guys worked together. They worked, I drafted. Hey, I'm the ride leader, and if I say pull, you pull! heh).
When we finally hit the Dublin Grade, we were starting to get that barn-sour-horse feeling, and galloped up the grade. The hill acted as a nice wind-block for most the climb, which was great. Once at the crest, though, the wind was full-on, and the "descent" was more like a climb, the howling wind counteracting gravity.
After the morning incident, I was reminded to take it easy on the downhill. We stopped at the top of the Dublin Grade just to double check the chain tension.
Our final effort was a great paceline up Doolittle back to Alameda. With a WSW wind at (mostly) our backs, we had a smooth return to the island. We rolled in at 4:30 pm, after 6:45 rolling. I ended with 101.7 miles, with a blazing average speed of 15.1, which, considering the wind is pretty darn fast! Total climbing was 4277'.
All in all, a great day on the bike, minus the near-disaster on Fairmont. However, my knees are a lot more sore today than after a geared bike century.
Full stats at garmin connect:
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/85639940
The First Ascent - Tunnel Road
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- Published on Wednesday, 27 July 2011 22:56
- Written by melne
By February, I had 130 miles of mostly flat now "in the bank" on the fixed gear bike, I took on my next big goal of riding it up its first hill.
In this area, Tunnel Road is the best bet for the maiden voyage of any hill climber. It's a fairly gentle grade, averages about 6%, I'd say, and is the most popular bike climb in the Berkeley area.
I hadn't been doing too many major climbs, as the early part of 2011 had been fairly rainy and a good portion of the weekend days had been rained out. Most my mileage had come from my flat commute. I had no idea how it would feel to climb with no option to shift to an easier gear. In the past, I've certainly spent some time climbing Tunnel in my easiest 27-tooth cog. Would my legs give out? Would my cardiovascular system be able to handle the effort?
My fixed gear bike is set up with a 48-tooth crank and an 18-tooth cog in the back, which according to Sheldon Brown's gear calculator is 70.1 gear inches. My road bike has a compact 50/34 and a 12/27 cassette, giving me appx. 109 gear inches at one end of the spectrum and 33 at the other. So pedaling my fixed gear is essentially like being in the big ring on the "second easiest" gear.
I wasn't sure I'd ever climbed Tunnel entirely in the "big ring" before, but that is what it would be like.
Although I'm not a fan of riding solo, I decided that I would ride my initial fixed gear hill attempt alone, to avoid any mockery that might occur if I rode with the group and failed. (Of course, this works the other way, too, in that there would be no witnesses to the glory if I were to succeed).
So, late morning I headed out for the usual route to Tunnel Road, but on my new and (to me) unusual conveyance.
The first obstacle was the overpass over the freeway. A little out of the saddle work, but dispatched handily. As was the little bump by the park. The next big question was the "Molly Maid Hills" just past the 580 offramp. As I stood up and crested those hills, I saw one of my Alameda Velo buddies riding towards home. We stopped to chat at the top, and I was happy for the breather, because next up is a steep little pitch to get you to Park Boulevard. After our chat, I continued on to the slow but steady climb up to "the triangle" at Park and Monterey Blvds.
On my road bike, these hills aren't even a whit of concern. None of this ride gives me any pause at all, but on the fixed gear, it's all new territory.
Soon afterward I was turning from the Temescal bike path onto the preamble to Tunnel's climb, the annoying grade of upper Broadway. For some reason, that stretch of road is on my "dislike" list.
Finally, I'm at the bottom of Tunnel Road, and without a stop begin the climb. I'm not overly certain whether I'll get to the top without walking. (I brought my cleat covers just in case!). I settle into a rhythm, and find that although there's some effort and hard breathing involved, I'm basically jetting up the hill. There were a few riders out, and I was passing all of them.
I had some doubts, but they were quickly fading as I stood up and cranked my way to the top. Success! I was pretty darn happy to crest the hill and roll into the Sibley rest area. And I climbed it in 20 minutes. Not too shabby, as I believe my average climb of Tunnel is about 18 minutes.
I rested at the top of Tunnel for a bit, but then came the tough part. Going DOWN. I chose to go back the way I came, to avoid some of the steeper descents off the hill. I really hadn't done any fixed gear descents yet, and needed the easiest way down, and that seemed to be it.
I got started, and at first it was fun and novel and exciting to be pumping out a cadence of 130 and sailing down the road, but at a certain point, it felt as if it were getting a bit out of control and slightly scary. So about halfway down, I grabbed the brakes and stopped. I spent about five minutes chilling and thinking about better ways to descend on this bike safely.
Once I felt like I'd calmed my nerves, I got back on and continued with no further issues, other than acknowledging that I had more to learn about riding a fixed gear.
I stopped in Montclair for a deserved celebratory coffee before heading home with a happy successful hill climb in the books!
2011 - The Fixed Gear Year
- Details
- Published on Friday, 03 June 2011 20:32
- Written by melne
Near the end of 2010 I got a bee in my bonnet to try riding a fixed gear bike. Perhaps it was after riding my coworker's fixed gear around the office (we have a "track" around the cubicles there, and often ride slow-speed laps for fun). Perhaps it was hearing about how riding fixed is good for your training and strength--it improves your cadence and pedal stroke--heck, the pros often ride fixed gears in their off-season--it makes you stronger, and additionally, it's different than riding a road bike. Or maybe I just wanted be a [long-in-the-tooth] hipster. ;-)
I decided on a budget of about $500-700 to spend on a fixed gear bike, and proceeded to inquire with my more knowledgeable friends about what to look for.
After a few flake-ridden attempts at purchasing a used bike from craigslist, I decided to check out what might be available new. Alameda Bicycle showed me some Giant and Specialized that were in my budget, I started thinking that might be what I'd purchase.
However, poking around the internet led my browser to fall on a beautiful matte black and pink Bob Jackson track frame. Wow!
It was displayed on the Cycling Weapon of Mass Destruction blog, but made reference that his friend "Dennis" had this frame for sale at his "SF Bay Area" bike shop.
Hmmm... thought me... Dennis... Bay Area... Could it be Dennis Stone at Stone's Cyclery right there in my hometown, a paltry five blocks from my front door? I knew that Stone's carries Bob Jackson, Waterford and Gunnar... So I stopped by that afternoon, and hanging there in the window was that very Bob Jackson matte and pink frame!
Now, I'm a short girl, and the next thing I needed to know was whether the frame would fit me. I prayed it would! So I walked in, and there was Jason, a monster rider friend that works there at Stone's. My first words were, I think, "Please tell me that Bob Jackson frame will fit me!"
Alas, it was a 54. I need a 50. (Consolation: the Bob Jackson frame was NOT drilled for brakes, and I wanted both a front and rear on my fixed).
Well, Jason was all about getting me hooked up with a great bike with the features I needed. He thought through their inventory, but finally admitted that they had nothing that would fit me.
At that point, I looked up, and saw a small-looking burnt orange Waterford frame. "This one looks small!" I said. And Jason's face lit up as he replied, "I forgot about that one! Yes, that's your size!"
So, he pulled it down off its ceiling hanger, and l had a closer inspection. It was drilled for front and rear brakes, had cool flat fork crowns and spiffy lugs. However, I'd imagined having a really cool PINK fixed gear, and had to wrap my brain around the idea of "not pink." But I wasn't opposed to orange--my car is a blazing orange color, after all.
After discussing the frame and what it would take to build it up, I decided I should think about it, especially since the frame alone exceeded my entire budget for a fixed gear bike. Couple that with the uncertainty that I'd even LIKE riding fixed, I left the shop with a few pictures snapped of the frame to mull it over. New Old Stock 1997 Waterford 1700 track frame, Reynolds 531. It's kind of a weird frame in a way, the front looks a little more "road" with the sloping rake of the fork, but the rear triangle reflects "track" with its tight racing geometry and lack of water bottle bosses. Whoever built this frame must have been somewhat indecisive! "Hmm... road? track? road? track? Oh, I dunno, make it a bit of both!" Here it is:
I think you might guess where this story is going...
On Dec. 31, I returned to Stone's and plunked down the ol' plastic for the Waterford frame.
I figured I'd be waiting a few weeks to get the bike built up, but unbeknownst to me, Jason had already gotten busy on the build, and I stopped in and picked out a couple components, and Jason got my fixed all fixed up for me, and I rode it to work for the first time January 4!
Thanks to Jason and Stone's Cyclery!
First Days of Fixed
- Details
- Published on Wednesday, 27 July 2011 20:37
- Written by melne
So, excitedly, I picked up my ready-to-ride fixed gear bike from Stone's Cyclery on January 3, and excitedly anticipated my first chance to ride it, the next morning on an easy 5 mile commute to work.
Having never ridden fixed before, there was a lot of things I would have to remember, most importantly to *keep pedaling.* However, after years of riding a freewheel, it's not that easy to change old habits, but I was reminded frequently on that first ride that this wasn't a geared bike!
What was immediately revealed was how many times on my regular commute ride that I stopped pedaling and coasted--not for very long, maybe just a second or less--but each infraction was answered with a little buck from my bike. "Oh, yeah, fixed!" I'd think. Every hazard--Railroad Tracks? Coast. Pavement Cracks? Coast. Turns? Coast. I must have had at least 10 instances of those little reminders from the bike as I made my way to Oakland.
I practically had to start repeating to myself, "fixed, fixed, fixed" to remind myself to KEEP PEDALING.
What was especially weird for me was cornering. Pedaling around corners is something bike racers are very used to doing, but us regular folks routinely drop the outer foot and coast through the turn. Fixed, of course, you can't stop pedaling, so as you lean into the turn, your pedal is rotating and it feels totally different handling-wise from a geared bike, as well as potentially making conditions right for a pedal strike.
Even though the bottom bracket on a track frame is a centimeter or two higher than a road frame, the possibility of a pedal strike exists, and I'd been told that a pedal strike would be the kiss of pavement for the rider. And I don't like that idea at all!
Another odd aspect is that, as a small rider, I have major toe-overlap with the front wheel when my pedal is in the 3 o'clock position. I found a few times in the first few weeks of riding fixed that at a slow speed, I'd occasionally bobble the front end a bit and catch my toe on the front wheel. On my geared bike, which has a similar amount of toe-overlap, you can simply rotate your foot backward and problem solved. On this bike, though, you can't get the foot out of the way, and trouble can ensue. Luckily, I've yet to have any issues with it, but I've had an "almost" or two.
So I arrived fine at work, and found it to be a "very interesting" ride. It's actually very different than riding a geared road bike. In the weeks that followed, I rode it to work many times, and started taking it out on short, flat rides with my bike club, Team Alameda.
But I had my sights set for bigger goals on the fixed gear... The fellow who built the bike up for me, Jason, rides mountains, double centuries and brevets on his fixed gear, so I began to percolate a list of goals for my fixed side of life.
First goal would be taking it on a hill climb...